Telling Everyone
by autumnskyhill
Summary: Draco and Hermione have a secret... A secret that they are tired of keeping. So they decide to tell everyone, just as the title says. As always, I've made it PG-13 just in case. Read, and review!


**Disclaimer**: Me no own Harry Potter. It all belongs to the wonderful, brilliant, imaginative, amazing, spectacular J.K. Rowling. Kiss the hem of her robes! P

Telling Everyone

Their relationship was definitely not one that children would want to read about before bed. It was not a Cinderella story about a poor girl who meets her charming prince. It was not a Snow White story about a mistreated beautiful princess with an evil stepmother. It was not a Beauty and the Beast love story, involving roses and a coldhearted prince. It was something completely different, something they had made up.

For starters, it was based almost completely on spontaneity. Spontaneous dinners, unplanned nights spent in the bedroom, impulsive purchases of various _toys_, and the occasional unexpected bouquet of roses or box of expensive chocolates.

It wasn't that they didn't love each other, it was that, being the proud people they both were, they were unable to bring themselves to sacrifice anything that they loved. Both were unwilling to give up all the hard work, and the reputations that they had built for themselves over the years. Which is why, after three years of marriage (which was also spontaneous—he proposed one night and then they eloped the day after), their relationship was still a well-kept secret. And they had gotten used to it.

In public, they put on their grim masks and acknowledged one another with classic icy glares and curt nods. But behind closed doors, well, it was a whole different story. As soon as she locked the door behind her, he would grab her roughly, yet somehow gently, by the shoulders and kiss her. He would kiss her with all the want and passion he had kept to himself that whole day at work. She would reply with equal fervor, feeding him more of her love.

Theirs was the type of relationship that friends and relatives would frown upon. And with good reason—they had been enemies for years, until one fateful night back in sixth year…

_It was a cold night, that fateful night. She had been feeling under the weather, and wanted to pick up a nice book she could curl up with. _

_"I'll meet up with you guys soon, I promise!" she said, reassuring her worried friends. _

_As soon as they were out of earshot,_ _she sighed. She wasn't so sure she would be meeting up with them 'soon'. She had business to take care of. And her first stop was the library. She did pick up a good book, just in case they asked. She thanked Madam Pince and left. _

_Tucking the book away, she quickly pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, and made her way through the eerily quiet halls to the dungeons. She weaved through the dark corridors, lit only by the torches hanging threateningly on the wall. She pulled her cloak closer—not because of the chill (the dungeons were surprisingly warm), but because of the anticipation running down her spine. _

_When she reached her destination, she took a deep breath, hesitating when she felt the reality of it all. _

_She had only been here once before, and she had regretted it greatly. But somehow, she knew she just had to come back. And he knew too. She had no control over the situation, now. _

_With a final sigh, she yanked the door open, and walked in, trying to look brave. Nonchalant, just the way he liked her. _

_He looked up from the piece of paper he had been reading, and smirked at her. She hated, despised, that smirk. There was something so… **him** about it. And it irritated her. His whole being irritated her._

_But there he sat, calmly smirking at her. She glared back at him. _

_"I knew you'd come back," he said, raising his wineglass to his lips. _

_Right then, she wanted to hex him so bad, but she closed her eyes, scolding herself. He wasn't worth it. He was just a ball of slime who happened to have some blackmail on her. _

_"I know," she gritted back. "Can we please get this over with? I'll be missed soon."_

_He continued to smirk at her, placing his wineglass back on the table. _

_"Patience, my love. Patience. It's a virtue, you know. And I know how virtuous you Gryffindors are." There was a glint of malice in his eyes as he said that._

_She closed her eyes again. "Please, Draco. I don't have time for this."_

_Draco smiled smugly. "Ah, no 'Fuck you, Malfoy'? No 'Go suck balls, Ferretboy'? Very good. We are making progress."_

_She continued to glare at him. He ignored her._

_"If you want the pictures, you'll have to go by my rules. I don't plan on giving them to you for free. That would be boring, right Hermione?" he mocked, making sure to exaggerate on her name. _

_Hermione refused to give him the pleasure of an answer. _

_"Well? Do you accept the challenge, Head Girl?"_

_Hermione looked away from his judging silver eyes. As she prepared her next words, she prayed that her friends would understand, that they would forgive her. _

_"I do."_

And so, that was how they had started the relationship. Hermione never did get those pictures. Because he had burned them even before That Night. When she asked him about it, he just shrugged. "I didn't like them," was his answer.

He was jealous.

Hermione smiled against his lips, remembering this. Draco felt her smile and pulled away.

"What are you so happy about?" he wondered.

Hermione just continued smiling at him. "I missed you today, that's all."

He smiled back at her. "Oh, well, I missed you too…"

He pulled her closer to him, and leant down to whisper in her hair.

"I think it's time."

Her head shot up. "_The_ time?"

He nodded.

"Baby, are you sure? This is a huge decision. Have you forgotten all that is at stake?"

He just shook his head. "Hermione, I love you. I loved you when you stood up to my father in Flourish and Blotts, I loved you when you hit me when we were thirteen, I loved you when you went to the Yule Ball looking gorgeous, I loved you in fifth year when you stuck up for me, I loved you in sixth year when we made the deal. I loved in you in seventh year when I proposed, I loved you when got married, and I love you now. More than ever. And I'm willing to give up some petty image for you."

He grasped her hands in his. "I don't need anything, not my reputation, not my business friends, nothing. Only you."

Somewhere in the middle of his rant, Hermione had started crying. She was so touched, and so full of love for the man in front of her. "You would give it all up… For me?"

He nodded his head, hugging her close to him.

She buried her face in his chest, wetting his shirt with her tears. "I love you, Draco. I want to be with you, I don't want to hide anymore!"

Draco sighed wrapping his arms around her tighter. Protectively. Possessively. "I know, Hermione, I know."

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying each other's company, soaking in the drama of the moment. The peace, the emotion.

The next morning, everything changed. Instead of going their separate ways, Hermione took a day off from work and went with Draco to Malfoy Enterprises. The whole way there, Draco was nervously adjusting and readjusting his tie, glancing at his watch every five seconds.

Hermione leaned over to whisper soothingly into his ear. "It's going to be fine, baby. Everything will be fine."

Draco nodded, staring straight ahead, still adjusting his tie.

Finally, they arrived. Draco shot up, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He looked down at Hermione, smiling for the first time in hours. "Well, let's get this out of the way then."

They had not even stepped completely into the building yet when the onlookers went quiet and watched with awe as the couple walked through the lobby, their hands entwined. The same thing happened in the elevator, on the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh floors, and finally, the secretary's office of Draco's floor. Draco and Hermione ignored them and kept walking until they reached the conference room.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone," Draco announced as he swung open the door.

The whole room turned, looked from Draco to Hermione, and then looked at each other, then shrugged.

"Finally," someone towards the back of the room muttered.

Hermione looked up at Draco, and smiled. Draco smiled back. Their plan was going well.

Their next stop was the Potters' house. This time, it was Hermione who was restless. She was practicing her breathing, and was squeezing Draco's arm so hard, bruises were definitely going to be left.

Harry Potter and his wife, Pansy Parkinson, lived in a big house on a Muggle street, in a Muggle neighborhood. Therefore, it took them quite a while to reach it.

Suddenly, the carriage lurched to a stop. They were here.

As Hermione and her husband stepped out of their ride, she gulped, swallowing her fear. They made their way up the cobblestone path, and when they reached the door, she turned her back to it, trying to calm herself down.

'Harry's my best friend. He'll understand… He has to,' she thought.

Draco seemed to read her mind. "He's a smart man, and he's your best friend. He will understand."

Hermione nodded, turning around and ringing the doorbell.

Only seconds later, Harry opened the door, his face brightening when he realized who it was. Then, seeing who was with her, his smile instantly shrank.

"Pans," he called over his shoulder. "We have guests!"

Pansy ran over to join them, the same look of surprise on her face as her husband. But being the well-trained, purebred housewitch that she was, she quickly regained her composure.

"Why, hello, Hermione… Draco. What brings you here?"

Draco cleared his throat. "Just some unfinished…business. May we come in?"

Harry seemed to snap out of his reverie right at that moment. "Oh, yeah sure. Come on in."

The couple at the door stepped inside, making sure to remove their shoes; Pansy's rules.

This time, it was Hermione's turn to clear her throat. "The kitchen?"

Harry nodded. "The kitchen. Come on then."

He led the way to the modern-day, typical Muggle kitchen. They each took a seat at the long dining table, so that they were each facing someone.

"I'll make tea," said Pansy, sliding her chair back and rising from her seat.

Harry looked from Hermione to Draco. "Well? What's your 'unfinished business'?"

Draco shot a quick glance at Hermione. Hermione gave a small nod.

"Listen, Pot—Harry, Hermione and I are… married. And we've been married for three years. We were going to tell you sooner, but Hermione thought that you would take it personally and stop talking to her. We really love each other, or else the marriage wouldn't have lasted this long. I know that this might take you a while to… Potter?"

Harry seemed to have gone into shock. His eyes were unblinking, his mouth was wide open, it was all quite a scary sight.

Hermione's eyes filled with concern. "Harry? Are you alright?"

Harry continued to stare at them blankly.

Hermione closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Oh, Christ. What the hell do we do now?"

Draco, however, was somewhat fascinated. "He looks like a fish."

Hermione shot a look at him, but he ignored it. "Well, he does."

"What do we do, Draco?"

Draco shrugged.

But as they were discussing this, Harry had come back to life.

"Oh, hello. I had the funniest dream, and you were both in it, and Draco told me that you were married, and… Oh shit this is really happening, isn't it? Fuck."

Hermione looked down, avoiding Harry's questioning glance.

Draco just nodded, his eyes focused on the table.

"Oh, well, wow. Hermione, I still love you, you're still my best friend. I'm just really shocked, that's all… I mean, wow."

Pansy walked in just then, carrying a tray full of cakes, a pot of tea, stirring spoons, and sugar cubes.

"What did I miss?"

"Not much. Draco just informed me that him and Hermione have been married for three yearsl And kept this secret for so long."

Pansy just snorted. "Spectacular. Draco, I thought you were going to use plan HER."

Draco waved her suggestion away. "Nah, that plan would have backfired before I even drew it down on paper."

Pansy smirked. "Oh of course. Because it was a Malfoy original."

Draco smirked right back. "Of course. _Mafloys_ are good at everything."

Their final stop for the day was Ron Weasley. This time, both of them dreaded the journey. Draco because he just plainly despised Ron, and Hermione because she had to break the news of her and Draco's martial status to him. But very gently. Accent on 'very'.

When they arrived at the Burrow, Hermione took a deep breath.

"Here we go," she muttered.

Draco followed her wordlessly.

The Burrow, as always, looked cozy and welcoming. It certainly could not compare to the grand splendor of the Malfoy Manor, but it was beautiful in it's own way. Hermione shot a glance behind her, trying to tell Draco not to utter a single word about its lack in size with her eyes.

"Oh, it'll be great! Mum's already picked out everything and Ginny will be…" he said, rushing down the stairs. But when he saw Draco, he froze.

"What the hell is _he_ doing here?"

Draco opened his mouth, but Hermione gave him a look.

"Let me do all the talking," she whispered.

Hermione inhaled. "Ron, we need to talk."

Ron, still shooting daggars at Draco, nodded to show he was listening.

"Well, it's like this—"

Ron cut Hermione off. "Wait, does he," he jerked his thumb in Draco's direction, "have to be here?"

Hermione nodded. "Ron, you have to promise not to overreact."

"Hermione, just tell me, damnit!"

Hermione sighed. "Ron, Draco and I are married. I love him, with all my heart. And," she put up a hand to stop him from interrupting, "no, he hasn't put any sort of mind-control spell on me. It was my own free will to wed him. And I know that it'll take you a long time before you can accept it, but nothing will change. I will always love him."

By this time, Ron's face had turned an alarming shade of purple, and he seemed to be ready to burst.

Hermione instinctively recoiled, bracing herself for another one of his outbursts.

But there was none. Instead, all she could here was Ron's heavy breathing. In, out. In, out.

"Ron?"

Ron did not answer immediately.

"Ron, please, say something. Talk to me."

Ron shook his head.

"Ron, people change! Draco's not the same as he was before. He's changed his ways for the better. Ron, please, just say something. _Anything_! Scream at me, say whatever you'd like. Just… please, Ron, speak."

Hermione was close to tears, and at the sight of his childhood love crying, he relented.

He sighed. "Hermione, I hope you don't expect me to just accept this…"

Hermione nodded, her eyes shining with hope. "No, of course not!"

"Well, then, good. I'm happy for you. We've been friends for a long time now, and I know that I… I get out of control when it comes to you, but you have to know that I will always care about you. And I just want what's best, and if it's Malfoy, I suppose I'll just have to take it."

Hermione was smiling now. "Thank you, Ron! Thank you so much for understanding."

She rushed over and enveloped him into a bear hug. "I was so afraid you would hate me…"

Ron hugged her back. "I could never hate you."

The broke away. Ron's eyes met Draco's. A silent pact was made. They would be civil towards each other, for Hermione's sake.

"Go on, then. Wouldn't want to keep your husband waiting," he said, turning back to Hermione. "You, both of you, are welcome to visit whenever you'd like. I'm sure Luna will be more than pleased to see you."

Both Draco and Hermione nodded.

Ron walked them to the door, and as they stepped out, he placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Take care of her. I'm asking you as a mate."

Draco smirked at him. Old habits die hard, they say.

"Don't worry, I will… mate."

**Author's Notes**: Wow… 9 pages on Word! That's a record for me. I had fun with this story, and I think it turned out pretty good. Review? points hopefully at the button in the lower left corner


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